


A collection of moments

by merperson1



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Banter, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, mostly comfort, no plots just feelings, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-12-21 03:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21068243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merperson1/pseuds/merperson1
Summary: Cross posting the various short fics I've posted on my tumblr! I'll put the prompt in the chapter notes for each one





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’d say just honest to goodness Ten and Donna fluff (or hurt/comfort, like the Doctor is sick or something and channeling his inner whiny child and Donna’s trying get him better whilst staying sane or something - it’s been done before but nothing better than more lol)

The Doctor wakes up with a soft bed underneath him, a sharp pain in his leg, and a hand holding his own. All in all, far from the worst way he’s ever come to. He hopes. Sort of depends on who’s on the other end of that hand, he could potentially be in quite a bit of trouble. Following the arm up, he finds that it’s attached to a rather bleary-eyed Donna. Definitely one of the better outcomes.

She’s staring off into the distance, not yet noticing that he’s conscious, so he squeezes her hand and says, “Hey.”

Whipping her head towards him, she blinks at him for a few moments, sucks in a breath and lets it slowly out, then asks, “How’re you feeling? Is your shoulder all right?”

The question strikes him as slightly odd, as he remembers breaking his leg before getting knocked out, but he can’t recall anything happening to his shoulder. Still, he replies, “Yeah, fine,” which earns, _for some reason, _earns him a quick smack to aforementioned shoulder. “Oi! What’re you going around thwacking an injured man for?!”

“I am _thwacking _said injured man for being a bleedin’ idiot! Again he sees a situation that he could work through in some other way and _again _he throws himself into the line of fire! I’m getting _really _tired of your self sacrificial attitude, _mister._”

“I am not..._that _self sacrificial-,” is all he gets out before Donna is plugging on ahead in her light berating. “I mean, christ, it’s bad enough that you were walking for _four miles _on a broken leg you didn’t tell anybody about, but then you went and got yourself shot and I had no _idea _what the effect of that gun was and you didn’t wake up and you kept _not waking up _and even if I did have any sort of medical knowledge fat lot of good it would do on a time lord and I had no idea if you were going to come back or regenerate or just die and I was helpless to do anything about it and and-”

The Doctor sits bolt right, suppressing the wince caused by jostling his leg, and takes Donna’s hand back. “Woah woah woah. Taking me back to the TARDIS was the right call, I’m all right! See, all in one piece! Just a stun blast and a broken leg.”

Donna doesn’t quite manage to suppress all of her sniffling, but she does manage to give a half-hearted glare at him when she replies, “Oh _just _ a broken leg, like that means anything. For all know about your stupid alien body Time Lords might be like horses.”

“Horses? How?”

The glare fell away to something more settled and conversational. The Doctor liked settled and conversational. Less risk of being shouted at. “If a horse breaks its leg you have to put it down.”

“Wait, really? Why? Seems a bit harsh.”

“I don’t know! Do I look like I run an ranch? Just something I heard from Hettie.”

“Never went through a horse phase?”

“Was always more of an astronomy kid myself. Having a granddad with a telescope and a healthy imagination will do that. Made me kind of the odd one out at age 12, let me tell you.”

The Doctor gives her a soft smile at that, unable or maybe just unwilling to disguise the fondness in his voice as he says, “Seems like that worked out pretty well in the end.”

Some of the tiredness drains from her features as she matches his affection with her own. “Yeah, ‘sposeit’s not half bad, is it?”

They spend a few minutes in silence, both ruminating while Donna rubs her thumb along the knuckle of his own. The Doctor is in the middle of wondering whether the TARDIS was put in idleing mode or if she’s actually taking them somewhere when Donna pipes up, not looking at him, with a disconcerting set to her jaw. Her thumb freezes as she says, “You know, when I turned the offer to travel with you the first time, I said it was because you terrify me. Which, okay, you can in fact actually be rather fearsome when you want. Still not a fan of that, by the way. But what was _really _terrifying was not just that you were willing to take revenge, but that you were willing to _die _for that revenge, completely unnecessarily. I think I knew, even then, that if I was going to travel with you, that you were going to become my best friend. I also knew that there was a not insignificant chance that awful things were going to happen to you, and I was going to have to watch, and I can’t imagine anything more horrifying than that.

Now I’ve watched you throw yourself into _so many _situations that hurt you. When we fought off that psychic blob thing at the infinite hotel? When you shot yourself with the time reavers? When you went and tried to blow yourself up on the Sontaran’s ship? These sort of things are happening frequently that I have to wonder whether….”

Donna looks at him again, searching for something in his face that he most likely can’t provide. “Whether what?”

Donna tilts her head in a way that at first registers as pity, but quickly reveals to be pure and simple worry. “Whether you just happen to have some of the worst luck in the universe or if you’re actively seeking out ways to make yourself suffer.”

He wants to instantly refute, tell her “no, of course not, it’s just circumstance,” but lying to her is useless and to himself even more so. But it’s also not like he’s trying to die, not right now. That wouldn’t be accurate either, as he’s quite genuinely the happiest he’s ever been in a _while. _So, he goes for what he thinks, or at least hopes, is most honest, even if it’s not really...an answer. “I just. I need to help people Donna. I need to _protect _them. I can’t...I can’t continue to watch people sacrifice themselves for me, continue to get hurt in my place. If that means that getting shot or stranding myself or even dying, then so be it. Better than the alternative.”

Her gaze doesn’t move. There’s a good 20 seconds where his words rest between them. And then Donna says, “Well that’s tough. Because if it comes down to me or you I know who I’m choosing.”

“And that’s fine! I understand, I mean, your granddad would kill me if I ever-”

“No.”

“No?”

There’s not a hint of humor in Donna’s expression when she tells him, “It’ll be you. You’ll be the one to make it out. I mean, that’s always been true, right? That whole immortality thing gave you the leg up from the beginning. When I say that I’m planning to travel with you forever, I’m talking about _my _forever. I’m not watching you die, that’s part of the agreement.”

The Doctor feels his hearts start to beat in double time, but whether it’s with an instinctive fury at the _concept _of Donna dying or incredulity at what she’s saying, he’s can’t say for sure. “Well _I’m _not letting you sacrifice yourself for me. Absolutely not. I won’t allow it.”

“Too bad! ‘Allowing it’ has nothing to do with it! If you’re in the line of fire I’m gonna be right there with you, and the only way you’re gonna stop it is to not try and get yourself shot in the first place.”

The Doctor glares at her, and she matches it for a few moments before sighing and saying, “’Sides. You can’t...you can’t atone for things in the past by destroying yourself. Not that I’m saying you’re doing that, but if you are, well, it doesn’t work. Moving forward, putting as much good into the universe as long as you can , I think that’s the way we have to go. At the very least we have to be around to do damage control, right?”

He glares for a few more moments but the fight leaves him just as quickly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll try. Harder. To not get myself hurt or dead. I can’t promise it’ll _never _happen but. I can do better.”

Donna positively _beams _at him, and it’s frankly ridiculous how much better it makes him feel. “That’s all I ask. So, how long does it take for a time lord leg to heal?”

The Doctor gives a one shoulder shrug and tells her, “Couple of hours.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. Couple of days.”

“Well then. Sounds like time for a movie marathon.”

And marathon some movies they did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death and the Queen headcanon: for a few weeks after they leave Gorotania (or however the heck you spell it) Ten is very wary when Donna speaks to men because he’s shit scared she’s gonna end up leaving him again like she did with Rudolph. Yeah, I’m down for clingy/protective Ten basically

The Doctor came up from behind so that he could wrap his arms around her shoulders and rest his chin on her head, which should’ve been nice and comforting and warm_. _However, Donna could hear the pernicious grin on his face as he said, “Donna! There you are, we were just leaving, weren’t we?”

  


This had been the third _goddamn _time this week he’s pulled this sort of stunt, and, would you look at that, it’s once again just as Donna was having a nice flirt after the danger had passed. Never would’ve worked out, not the least because Donna just isn’t a fan of that many eyes on a face, but the interruption was far from welcome nonetheless. Two instincts war inside her, but she ultimately decides that it will be more productive to give The Doctor a right and proper talking to in the TARDIS over just yelling right here and now. Matching the (assumed) sharpness of The Doctor’s grin, Donna schools her gritted teeth into an imitation of a smile and says, “That we were! Sorry to take off so quickly, but you know how it is. Things to do, places to see, running to tolerate, all that!”

  


Four of the alien’s eyelids flutter rapidly with a loud clicking noise that, thank you TARDIS, automatically translates to, “Ah, my apologies, Lady Noble. If I had known you were already partnered, I would not have made overtures. I hope I have not to greatly offended your mate.”

  


Before Donna could open her mouth to give a perfunctory “_Definitely _unpartnered, not my mate,” The Doctor comes forward and grabs her hand to pull her away, cheerfully telling her conversational partner, “Oh, no offense taken old chap! We _really _must be off right now though, give us a holler next time we’re in the solar system!”

  


Like that, he has her running again despite the fact that they are not, at the moment, in any actual rush that she’s aware of. Not able to really talk while being half dragged back home, she settles for an incredulous side eye that The Doctor willfully (?) ignores.

Luckily, they weren’t parked too far away, so it’s only a matter of minutes before they’re back in the TARDIS. The Doctor is already talking a mile a minute and asking a million questions he clearly doesn’t expect an answer to and Donna has had _enough._

“What. The Hell. Was that.”

  


The Doctor freezes, one hand grasping a mallet mid strike and the other hovering over a keyboard. In a display of false innocence, he asks, “What the hell was what?”

Strolling over to take the mallet from his hand before he hurts himself or, who knows, opens a sort of space vortex or something to get out of the ensuing conversation, Donna not at all calmly tells him, “That whole horse and pony show back there! I mean, _Christ, _you can be clingy and melodramatic at the best of times-

  


“Oi-”

  


“but this is a whole ‘nother level! This is jealously whenever I so much as _look _at another person, and I you don’t cut that out I swear to god I’ll-”

  


“Leave? For good?”

  


There’s a bitter flash of a smirk on his face and it throws Donna completely off her rhythm. Not enough for her to completely stop yelling, mind you, but enough that some gears are starting to grind in the back of her mind. “What? No. I was _gonna _say lock you in the TARDIS for a week so you can think about your actions and I can actually spend time with people that are not you without some hovering but I’m starting to think that’d only exaggerate the problem.”

  


The Doctor sets about busying himself with...something on the console and pointedly does not make eye contact when he replies with, “Mmmm.”

  


For about a minute or two, Donna passively watches him work, taking the time to connect the dots before hollering, “Goritania!”

  


Still puttering about with who knows what, The Doctor replies, “Huh?”

  


“You’ve been acting like this for about a month, aka when we left Goritania. Considering that whole speech you gave about oh how you’re so lonely and woe is me everyone leaves, which, by the way, if you had let me get a word in edgewise you would’ve _known _I wasn’t going anywhere, not permanently, I’m guessing it’s not a coincidence that you’ve been acting like anyone I make eye contact with is going to, I dunno, whisk me away to some other planet for an interalien soul binding or some other nonsense.”

  


The Doctor thwacks the side of the monitor with a little more force than necessary and his breathing gets heavier as he spits out, “Well it’s _true _isn’t it? Everyone _does _leave, and just because “Rudolph,” he says the name with a sneer, “wasn’t your person doesn’t mean that you’re not going to find your person and run off and get married and live a happy life just like you wanted.”

  


Funnily enough, just as the Doctor starts to get riled up, Donna feels all the fight leave her. “I’ll admit, there was a time where I _did _really want that big fairytale wedding followed by, hopefully, a big fairytale marriage. Somewhere along the line I had learned that’s what was synonymous with a happy life. But then I got a glimpse of the universe and that all fell to the wayside. For Christ’s sake, I think I had more fun running around like a madwoman as my wedding reception got destroyed that I did with the wedding itself. I mean, sure, I still think having “my person” makes things better for me, but luckily, I’ve already found them.”

  


The Doctor finally stops messing around with instruments so he can actually _look _at her. His jaw works back and forth a few times, and then he schools his face into something that utterly fails to not be crestfallen. “Oh? Do I..do I know them?”

  


“Oh no, you’ve never met them,” She lightly flicks his forehead, “It’s you, _stupid. _For a supposed genius you’re rather thick sometimes. How ave you survived this long?”

  


“Oh! Also, I haven’t. I’ve already died nine times Donna, keep up. Also also, supposed genius? Who was saying that? I should send them a card.”

  


“Absolutely not. Your ego would explode and we can’t have that. It’d kill you a tenth time.”

  


“Mmm. Suppose it’s for the best, I’m out of stamps anyway.”

  


There’s a beat of silence before he blasts her with the full force of the universe’s dopiest grin. Voice filled with inexorable pleasure, he asks, “I’m really your person?”

  


She could call him out on asking questions he full well knows the answer to, but instead she gives a one shouldered shrug and says, “Well, yeah. You’re my best friend. Who the fuck else was it gonna be? I guess it’s a _bit _odd that you’re a nine hundred and seven year old alien, wouldn’t have called that in my 7th grade journal, but I’ve accepted much weirder things at this point.”

  


The Doctor’s grin settles softly into a smile, quietly replying, “I do love nothing in the world so well as you- is not that strange?”

  


Donna gently elbows him in the side and admonishes, “What did I say about Shakespeare quotes during serious conversations?”

  


“Sorry,” The Doctor says, not sorry at all. “If it helps, my best friend is an alien that’s not even half a century old. So _young. _Pretty freaky if you ask me.”

  


“Oh for real? Do I know them?”

  


The Doctor gives Donna an unimpressed look, but she luckily has had an immunity to all of his Looks from day one. She bumps his shoulder with her own and says, “Seriously though, you think I could _ever _trade seeing galaxies and bringing hope to people and stopping the forces of evil for what? A mortgage and office politics? My baseline state traveling with you is _joy. _Even the miserable, horrible times _aren’t _so miserable and horrible because, on a bone deep level, I’m deliriously happy. That’s never been true before, and it means the only way that you’re getting me out of this little blue box is in a casket. So. You know. Something to think about when you get it in that messy little head of yours that I’m gonna tell you to sod off and run away with the nearest 6’ 3” vaguely humanoid person able to lift me.”

  


“In my defense you did, in fact, once tell me to sod off and ran away with a 6’ 3” Tree of Cheem. Lovely woman by the way, you should’ve kept in contact.”

  


“It was for a _day _oh my god chill _out. _It’s not our fault that we had better tastes in amusement parks than you.”

  


“I see your point. I will...chill out. And I’m sorry for how, uh,-”

  


“cloying?”

  


“_overly protective _I’ve been these past weeks. Sometimes I just get so..”

  


Donna leans against him, pleased when he leans back, and tells him, “Hey, I get it, I really do. I’m plenty scared of losing you. Christ, I’ve had plenty of nights working myself into sleeplessness _convinced _you’re gonna ditch me for somebody who’s ‘better’ than me, whatever the hell that means.”

  


“I wouldn’t ditch you!”

  


“I _know _that. Logically. Just like you know that I’m not gonna trade you in for a white picket fence and 2.4 children. Hence why, despite the occasional irrational actions, I think we should move forward so we can be afraid of real threats, like the many, many things that try to kill us on a near daily basis. Speaking of, what thing trying to kill us are we gonna go barreling into now?”

  


“I was thinking the mesmerizing mountains of Yountor. They sing so beaituflly as to be rumored to be populated by angels.”

  


Donna raises an eyebrow at him. He continues, “or maybe sirens.”

  


Sarcastic tone at odds with the grin on her face, Donna says, “Ah No way that could backfire. Let’s do it.”

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “are you banned from all taco bells or just THAT taco bell"

“So are you banned from all Taco Bells or just that one?”

Donna plopped down on the curb a legally mandated 500 feet away from the restaurant next to where the Doctor was sat, “not” pouting. Not all that invested in his response, Donna didn’t hesitate to start digging through the bag of take out for her hard won burrito as soon as she had sat. The Doctor didn’t seem to mind that she was only half paying attention, replying, “Not sure. If any of the Taco Bells have started employing humans, then maybe, but the safe money is on a universal ban.”

Okay, that made her put her burrito down, despite the angry protests from her stomach. “Are...Taco Bells not usually employed by humans?”

“Nah. Didn’t I ever tell you? Taco Bells are almost universally staffed by an ooze hive-mind that can take on human form.”

Donna blinked, took a bite, methodologically chewed, and after about 30 seconds finally said,. “See I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion or the fact that I know you lead a completely bonkers life, but I genuinely can’t tell if you’re putting me on.”

The Doctor let out a slightly hurt gasp because even half awake and starving he can not for a minute resist melodrama. “Of course I’m not! When have I ever put you on?”

There’s almost certainly times where he has, but Donna’s 90% sure this wasn’t one of them. She’s also 90% sure that she didn’t really _care_, so she let it slide and said “All right all right. In that case, next time we’re done dealing with a lake monster and the subsequent tiny frog cult-”

“They weren’t technically frogs”

“-Sod off they were close enough, in Ogallala Nebraska, we’ll hit up the Denny’s instead.”

The Doctor sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Yeaaaah that’s not gonna work.”

“KFC? I think they’ve got one of those somewhere.”

With a so so hand wave, he replied “40-60% chance.”

“Wow. Is there any major food franchise you haven't gotten yourself banned from?”

“In my defense, I’ve had a _very_ long life with a variety of extenuating circumstances. And I think I’m clear with Nando’s.”

“Oof. I can’t do Nandos.”

“Don’t like their chicken?”

“Dont like the consequences of a bachlorette party I attendedin my 20s. Unfortunately there’s still pictures posted..”

“Oh! I haven't heard that story!”

“And you never will.”

  


The Doctor somehow managed to make it look likenot delving into that particular moment of her 20s was the greatest personal betrayal, and even worse, he somehow managed to make _her_ feel a bad about it, so she decided it was high time to deflect. “You will, however, get that chulupa and cherry icee you had your eye on before the manager kicked you out.”

  


“Oo! Thank you Donna, you’re brilliant as always!”

  


“Shut up. I could hardly let you starve, you’re skinny enough as it is! Start skipping meals and you’re gonna blow away!”

  


The Doctor was going to protest, probably with some such nonsense about Time Lord metabolism or whatever, but luckily was occupied with his first real meal in 3 (?) days. Donna found she couldn’t argue with that logic and dug in herself.

  


They ate in silence for a couple minutes before Donna prompted, “You know what the worst part of all this is?”

  


“That we almost started a civil war?”

  


“Huh? No. Almost and did are two different things. The worst part about all this is that despite knowing that this food is mediocre at best, I can genuinely say this is the best bleeding burrito I’ve had in my entire life.”

  


The Doctor laughed. _Hard. _At the point where it’s obviously less the line itself than it’s the circumstances that brought them there, Donna was laughing too, letting out the tension of the past couple days. Whether it was the food or the company, she felt suddenly up for another adventure, though preferably with a nap beforehand. “So, where to next? Historical catastrophe? Interplanetary warzone? Some other mucked up place we have to try and unmuck?”

  


“Actually, I was thinking some place warm, quiet, and _dry. _I think I’ve had enough of almost drowning for a while, you?”

  


“That sounds right about perfect. Let’s see just how close we can get.”

  


  


  


  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ten donna prompt where theyve just got back from the tardis after seeing Some Shit. donna is a little shaken, and the doctor is trying to help as best he can.

Donna was quiet. Donna had been quiet since she’s gotten back to the Tardis, maybe even before then, though things had been a bit too chaotic for the Doctor to be able to accurately tell. A deep sense of _wrongness _pervaded every cell of his being as long as the air remained empty, so he tried to fill up the space with his own chatter. Pulling at various levers and knobs mostly to do something with the itchy sensation under his skin, he asked, “So, Donna! Where to next? Alien planet? Something historical? A nice coffee shop? Maybe one of the ones with cats OH I love a good cat cafe don’t you? Or are yu not much of a cat person? Well obviously you’re not a cat person, not like those nuns, have I ever told you about those nuns, unless you _are _a cat person, just very well disguised. Donna, you’re not a secret cat person, right?”

When that didn’t illicit even a “_No, _dumbo” but instead resulted in Donna continuing her dead-eyed stare at the console, The Doctor’s two hearts started to pound. Injecting a bit more false pep into his voice, he continued on, “ ‘Course, we don’t _have _to pick a destination. I always like a good surprise, let the Tardis go on according to her whims. We’re sure to go somewhere exciting then, the ol’ girl refuses to let us get bored.”

Donna sucked in a breath through her noise, turned glassy eyes towards his, and said in a _small _voice, “I think I should go home.”

_Small. _Her voice is _small. _No part of her should be small. Donna Noble is meant to take up space. Donna is meant to be loud and large and _present _and unapologetic about all of that. But her voice is small, her posture is hunched inwards, and she doesn’t exist enough in the room. The Doctor knew what exactly she meant, but he had also found that on occasion, if he simply acted like something wasn’t happening, then it wouldn’t. It was rare, but it was worth a shot. “Right! Always good to have a break. Catch up with Wilf, hear some stories, _love _his stories, maybe avoid a whole world ending disaster this time, all that jazz! Sounds great! Molto bene!”

Donna’s breath stuttered and a few tears spilled unbidden. She hadn’t meant to cry, she was trying _really really _hard not to cry, but she supposed she couldn’t put it off forever. Voice a bit stronger but still small, too small, she replied, “ No, I mean, drop me off. Permanently. I think..I think you should find someone else. You’re still gonna need someone but I don’t think that someone is me.”

“What? Why? No, wait, _what? _Donna, I, I suppose, I.._no. _If you want to leave, I’ll understand, obviously, I’m not going to _force _you to-”

“-Of course I don’t _want _to.”

“Then..,” The Doctor stammered for about 30 seconds before he came up with the response, “_what? _Why would you leave?_”_

Donna’s voice finally came back strong. It’s somehow worse. “Because! I’m not enough, all right!”

“Not enough? Not enough how? Not enough for what?”

Donna gestured wildly to the room around her. “All of this! What if..what if I was always missing things, big, grand universal things, because I was meant to! What if Lance, what if my own _mother _was right! Maybe I’m just meant to care about, I dunno, tabloids and royal weddings and office gossip. I’m not supposed to have the universe in my charge! I don’t have medical knowledge or an indomitable will or an incorroptiple sense of right and wrong or any of the things that would make me good at this! For Christ’s sake, you got hurt because I wanted to have a spa day, what kind of companion is that? God, the more I think about it, the more I realize you can’t _possibly _want me here. Sure, you’ll tolerate me, because you have to, because I do that thing where I push and I push and I push and don’t ever notice when someone’s just being _polite, _when they’re just putting up with me because I’ve never given them a word in edgewise-”

No more comes out because Donna has started to hyperventilate. In a wink, The Doctor is at her side, one of her hands wrapped in both of his own, and making sure that she’s looking at him. “Donna. We just fought off a creature with both physic and shape-shifting abilities that are specifically meant to demoralize its targets. It’s _grueling. _So these terrible thoughts,these feelings, that you’re having right now. I _promise _that they’ll pass, and I promise even more that they’re not true.”

Her breathing slowed down, but she hardly looked any less distressed. She was at least able to kee speaking, throat no longer _quite _so tight. “That’s the thing though, it _worked. _What better evidence is there that these thoughts are true than the fact that I completely _froze. _ All those things had to do was look like my mother and say some of her greatest hits and I was paralyzed until you trapped it in an elevator shaft. What greater display is there that I’m utterly _useless _here, just like she said?”

“_Useless?!,” _The Doctor sputtered for a few moments if only so he wouldn’t scream. Raging at the entirety of reality for the simple fact that his best friend could ever feel this way about herself wasn’t going to help matters, but god did he want to. “Donna, _nobody _is useless, least of all you! Freezing one time doesn’t negate the fact that you objectively put so much _good _into the universe. I’ve frozen more than that during afternoon tea. Donna, there are people that are alive and happy and _free _today because you showed up and decided to help them. There are ballads and sculptures and choirs made about _you _because you made the deliberate choice to be kind. How many people can say that?”

“Yeah, but that’s not cause of me, is it? That’s just a side effect of traveling with you, right? That’s what _you _do, you go and help and make things better and if someone happens to be coming along, they’re gonna get credit no matter what.”

“No, what? Not even _slightly. _Donna, you’ve seen me at my default, and it’s not good. Remember the Racnoss? You said I just stood there, like a stranger, and you were right. I wouldn’t have left if you hadn’t pulled me out of there. Pompeii? I wouldn’t have looked back. I wouldn’t have acknowledged my own _daughter _if it hadn’t been for you. The good that we do is a testament to _you, _to how truly and incredibly brilliant you are.”

The Doctor let go of her hand so that he could throw his own up in the air. “And, by the way, what’s this _nonsense _about me only tolerating you?! I asked _you _to travel with _me. _You think I go around offering to show the wonders of the stars to anybody? To people I only tolerate? For one I’m certainly not polite enough to put up with people that are only tolerable and for two I interrupted your wedding after only 3 weeks because I missed you too much. What about that says _tolerance?_”

They weren’t out of the woods, but it felt like a victory nonetheless when Donna gave a hint of a smile and replied, “Honestly just thought you has a thing for crashing my weddings.”

It’s teasing. That’s good. “Doing something twice hardly means you have a _thing _for it. And to be fair, both of those weddings needed a good crashing.”

The Doctor expected a rebuttal, at the very least a solid, “oi”. Instead, he gets a one shouldered shrug and a “suppose so.” Less good. He decided to keep talking. He felt like he could sing Donna’s praises for days, but he didn’t know if or when those praises would be effective.

“And another thing, this whole meant to be here concept. You found me. Twice. Great big grand old universe, all of time and space, infinite cosmos, and just when I’ve lost someone, just when I’ve most needed someone, there you were. Donna Noble, my savior.”

Donna sniffed, and scrubbed at her face with her hands, and smiled. She was coming back to herself. “Isn’t it more the other way around? I mean, you quite literally saved me less than 20 minutes again.”

“Maybe we save each other. Maybe that’s what makes this whole arrangement work so well. I…..I know there are some things from your past that I can’t fix, but when it comes to your future? I’m just hoping to be in it. You are welcome to go home, I won’t stop you, but know that if you ever leave the Tardis, if you ever go back, that’s going to have to be _your _choice, because I’m going to fight to keep you around as long as I can.”

Donna searched his features, looking for any hints of insincerity. When she found none, she let out a deep breath, and said, “Okay. _Okay. _No, of course I don’t want to go home, not permanently. I believe you promised me something about an intergalactically renowned adventure cruise? Let’s hit that up and see how many hours it takes before it all goes horrendously wrong.”

Some of the cheer in her voice was carefully manufactured, but it was all right, because soon enough it wouldn’t be. Soon enough, they’d be off, traveling and helping and picking up pieces, as they do. As long as they were together and moving forward, it would be alright.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> practically all of them fit for tendonna but "please stop petting the test subjects" for themb and they're just wreaking havoc at this weird, cool laboratory they found???

“Donna, _please _stop petting the test subjects.”

Donna hears him, clearly processes the words, and then pointedly stops stroking what appears to be a furry nudibranch only so that she can scoop it up in her hands and press it against her cheek. The thing makes trills in response, which emboldens her to throw the The Doctor a flat look and say, “I did, in fact, stop petting them. And they’re not _test subjects, _they’re, you know….”

The Doctor raises an eyebrow at her, hoping their typical back and forth will disguise the uneasiness that is starting to curl its way around his ribs. “They’re what, exactly, _Doctor_ Noble?”

“Oh hush you. I don’t know _exactly, _but they’re not a threat! I mean, look at them!”

Pulling out the sonic screwdriver, The Doctor starts to scan them despite Donna’s incensed expression on the odd chance that they’re, say, full of toxin. “Right, because when something is cute and fluffy there’s no possible way it could be a threat. Like bears. Definitely not a threat.”

With an eye roll, she replies, “Yes, because something that fits in the palm of my hand and a bear are clearly equally vicious. How many bears do you have to deal with anyway? Wait, shit, how many bears _do _you have to deal with? Are we gonna get attacked by a bear? Do we need to get a dog?”

The Doctor has a reputation for being a bit..scatterbrained. Lot of tangents and nonsequiturs come out of his mouth, so most people seem comparatively linear in their logic. Donna is not most people. He pauses his assessment of the critters to stare at her and ask, “_What?”_

“For bear attacks. Loads of people who survive them do so because their dog helped out. Read about it in wilderness guides.”

“Why were you reading wilderness guides in Chiswick?”

“Because I’ve gone camping? What are you, the literature police?”

“Well I _do _have the police box-”

“-No! That doesn’t make you any form of cop! We’ve already discussed and settled this! Besides, who even wants to hang out with coppers? Nasty creatures, _unlike _the little bundle of joy that I have decided is named Tanya and is my friend.”

“Tanya” makes a cooing noise at this, and Donna sticks out her tongue at The Doctor. The Doctor, in kind, throws his hands up and says, “You can _not _go around befriending strange alien creatures that you know nothing about!”

“It worked out pretty well for me last time.”

“Last time? When-”

“-you, time boy. You were the strange alien creature.”

The Doctor swallows down the reply that she doesn’t _know _it’s worked out, that given his track record it most likely won’t. Donna has a low tolerance policy for fatalism and would happily steam roll over that response, so instead he sputters out, “That’s! That’s _completely _different. For one, I am a _person _rather than a _creature, _and secondly, you didn’t find me in a decrepit abandoned research lab!”

Amusement rather than annoyance threads itself into her words when she says, “No, you were just my kidnapper. Completely innocuous.”

The Doctor lets out a groan, about to make a rebuttal, when the sonic screwdriver lets out a series of dings. Holding it up to his face, he mutters, “Oh. _Ooooh. _Interesting.”

Sufficiently distracted from her lil buddy Tanya, Donna leans over and squints at the sonic as if she has any idea how to read it herself. Maybe one day. “So? Final verdict, is Tanya killing me?”

“No. Well. Eh. Sort of? No. Not yet, at least.”

Donna slowly half pulls Tanya away from her face, giving it a side-eye before looking back at the Doctor and saying, “Not the _most _promising thing I’ve ever heard. Is it going to go all giant and eat me or something? _Is it going to turn into a bear?”_

“Not exactly. Our friend Tanya-

“-thank you for using their proper name-”

“-it definitely isn’t but okay. Tanya here is a _very _distant and much less threatening cousin to the Kantrofarri. Instead of feeding directly on the brain matter, it feeds on brain waves, specifically the emitted by you as a positive response to it’s presence. The noises it emits have remarkably similar effects as that of a cat purring, albeit to a more extreme degree.”

Without realizing she has resumed her stroking of Tanya’s fur, Donna says, “That doesn’t sound so bad. Like cleaner fish and sharks, symbiotic or whatever”

The Doctor tilts his head back and forth a couple times as he replies, “_Eeeehhhhh theoretically_, yes, under the right conditions, it would be much like having a pet. Mutually beneficial, two sided domestication.”

“However?”

“_However, _these aren’t the right conditions. With any organism that can directly interact the dopamine center of the brain has risks, and Tanya very well can become addictive, especially if stressed. In fact,” The Doctor pauses, sticking his hands in his pockets as he looks around, “that’s probably the point of this lab. Making a drug out of living creatures.”

Eyes downcast, Donna’s voice is softer as she says, “That’s horrible.”

Somehow, no many awful things she sees traveling with him, they always manage to surprise her. She hopes that that stays true, that the cruelty of the universe doesn’t become something she’s accustomed too. She wonders if The Doctor is already there.

These thoughts pass in a manner of seconds, before she gives her head a quick shake and says, “Tanya appears to be the only one left around. Is there any..I mean, can we take them home? Is there a home to take them to?”

A small smile appears on the Doctor’s face. “That there is,” the smile grows, “We’d have to skip the spa we came for though.”

Donna rolls her eyes, knowing it’s not even a question for either one of them, and says, “You know, one of these days you’re going to actually have to make good on your promise of taking me somewhere relaxing.”

“You seem pretty relaxed right now.”

“Yeah. No, telling me the small fluffy creature I’m holding was being experimented on to turn deadly is not actually super de-stressing. Little bit of human lore for you right there, I know you don’t get a lot of it in your day to day alien activities.”

“Hey! At this point I’ve spent exponentially more time with human than my own species! I’m very well versed in your lore.”

“Sure.”

“I am!”

“Uh huh. Then, pop quiz Doctor, what destination would a human such as myself _actually _find relaxing after we drop Tanya off?”

“There’s this _lovely _planet called Midnight, admittedly with a deeply toxic atmosphere, but the facilities are incredible! And the _views, _wouldn’t wanna miss that for the galaxy! Waterfall made of sapphires!”

“But do they have massages?”

“They do in fact have massages.”

“Perfect! I’ll need it after the emotional stress of parting with Tanya. Maybe we could keep them?”

“_Donna_.”

“Right, right, I know, it’s not right, deadly addiction. I will do the _responsible _thing here. But then massages.”

The Doctor gives a nod. “But then massages.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "That's the tenth demon summoning this week holy shit"

The sounds of muffled cursing followed by angry shouting were never pleasant to be woken up by, but it tended to be particularly concerning when it was 3 am on the TARDIS. Especially because the angry shouting did _not _belong to The Doctor and they hadn’t picked up a straggler on their last adventure. Donna would normally be more concerned, but for the last month or so, this had become relatively routine. She did not bolt towards the room the shouts were coming from to desperately rescue The Doctor from whatever life threatening situation he had gotten himself into. Instead, she stretches with a loud yawn, puts on her slippers, and heads to the kitchen to make herself a leisurely cup of tea. Waiting for it to steep and for herself to become more awake, she checks her phone for messages and listens to some _very _pointed threats being made towards The Doctor’s mother.

About ten minutes after she initially wakes up, she heads over to the study, which has had the floor cleared for chalk and candles. Much as she expected, some guy with a reptile on his head is standing in the middle of a rune-filled circle, screaming something about pointy objects going in rather unpleasant areas. She gives a nod and says, “Doctor.”

In tired acknowledgement, he looks up from the book that he’s rapidly flipping through and says, “Donna.”

“Tenth demon summoning this week.”

The Doctor scrubs his face with his head, comically pushing is glasses up and then letting them fall back askew. Exhaustion undercuts his glib tone as he says, “Only ten? I’m slowing down.”

Demon boy’s yelling is getting more severe, some nonsense about recruiting Beezlebub or something? The part of her that was sleep addled and lacked impulse control wanted to erase part the chalk circle with her toe and find out what exactly _would _happen, but a larger part of her dutifully did not feel like getting stabbed. Still, it spoke to how boring it was when The Doctor was obsessive over something that didn’t really involve her. “That’d be such a shame if this crusade of yours wasn’t, you know, completely pointless.”

They’ve had this argument before. She knows she’s not going to get anywhere. “He has my _face, _Donna. Plus he’s apparently ginger, which seems like it’s a direct mockery. Like ohhh I’m evil and a demon _and _I get to be a redhead, you just have to deal with it. I don’t _like _just having to ‘deal with it’.”

Donna takes a long sip of her tea, and expects it would earn her a half-hearted glare if The Doctor was anything other than completely drained. “Mmm. Well this attempt didn’t work, so can you banish this guy? He’s _loud, _and we’re supposed to be the only ones without volume control.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, right.” He spouts some Latin (?) and nasty boy disappears, which lets Donna walk over the circle to where he’s sitting, already starting to scan through another incantation. It smudges some of the chalk, which she _totally _didn’t do intentionally so The Doctor would have to redo the circle and have some downtime between summonings. Complete accident.

Leaning over, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and places her chin on top of his head, hugging him from behind so she can still look at whatever he’s doing. “You should go to _bed. _I’m sure your dastardly demonic doppelganger will still be around tomorrow.”

The Doctor ignores her for a moment, reading the last few lines on the page, before leaning back into the hug. “One more tonight. Then I will.”

She lets out a sigh, but concedes. “Alright. Want me to grab you some tea? A nice chamomile?”

“I do love a nice chamomile. Which is why I definitely don’t want any of yours. How you made _chamomile _bitter is beyond me.”

She stands up then, and The Doctor only sort of saves himself from landing on his back. Grabbing a piece of chalk so they can get this over with, Donna replies, “Such harsh criticism from a man who _microwaves _his tea. With the bag in it! It’s abhorrent!”

“It’s practical! And it doesn’t somehow make the drink taste almost entirely unlike tea!”

“I would argue that last point but I want to go to _sleeeeeeeep. _Hurry up and tell me what to draw so I can get back into my no longer lovely and warm bed.”

The Doctor opens his mouth to protest against involving her, realizes that’s stupid, and then hands her some diagrams that have been marked with sticky tabs. Their combined efforts make it go faster than usual, and in about 20 minutes they’re ready to give it one last shot for the night. Donna gives his hand a quick squeeze, he goes over the incantation, and...nothing happens.

For about a minute.

And then it does.

With a rather dramatic flash of smoke, a harried man appears in the center of the circle, who other than they eyes, general aesthetic choices, and hair color, looks nearly identical to The Doctor. The three of them glance rapidly at each other, and the demon and Donna open their mouths and speak simultaneously.

“What the _fu-_


End file.
